A Dragon Gone Mad
by Cookie Master's Apprentice
Summary: Short drabble on Toothless after Hiccup was killed in a battle. Unrelated drabbles now available. Named after first shot. Some gore, rated T. Read and review!
1. Prompt: War Casualties

_I'm back after the less-than-welcoming entrance with the OC thing. But I actually liked it. Drop by my profile and at least give it a read, will you? Thank you much._

_This is called "shameless angst", if I remember correctly. Bleh. On a bright sunny day and I came up with this little damper. First shot at any great amount of angst. Maybe I should stretch this out to be a series of drabbles, but it will depend completely on your reviews. 'Til then, suggest as many prompt as you like, and I'll pick the best out and write something. I'm never out of ideas. Now, enough with this. Enjoy!_

_Disclaimer: It is a certain knowledge that when you own something, you don't need to write fanfictions about it. It is also a certain knowledge that most writers found the disclaimer annoying. FF. net should add the disclaimer thing automatically for every story posted, seriously._

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**A Dragon Gone Mad**

**Prompt: War casualties**

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Humans are fragile. He should have known that as soon as his first burst of flame hits the human dwellings of Berk. No, he did. He did know it, but the peaceful years on this island had dulled his sense of danger, and he'd always believed that he could protect his rider against anything.

And he was utterly wrong. Now he stood bending over the result of that mistake, sobbing as much as a Night Fury could.

"Hey, don't…don't blame…yourself," the familiar voice wheezed out, choked with blood that was flowing out of the speaker's half-parted lips, but they were still set in a strangled smile, meant to assure the shuddering beast over him, a set of fading leaf green eyes, definitely human, looking into a pair of pained, exhausted and fearful toxic green orbs that looked like a puppy's.

Toothless wailed mournfully, bending closer to rest the side of his head against Hiccup's right cheek. He didn't hear the sounds of raging dragons and battles around them. He didn't care for the bitter, blood-stained snow that surrounded him and Hiccup. He didn't care for the cuts deep on his flanks or the fact that he himself was bleeding profusely, that there was his home to save.

All the Night Fury could care about was the body lying in the snow, lying under him, with two lances through both his lungs, with blood bubbling up his mouth and dimming eyes. Fading.

It was too dangerous to move Hiccup, and both of them knew there was nothing that could be done for him. All they could do was waiting for the pain to stop, for it to go away, and with it, Hiccup's life. One drop of blood ran from Toothless' right severed ear, down to his eye and dropped onto his rider's face like a tear.

"Toothless, listen," Hiccup rasped again, and this time, the badly injured Night Fury pulled back to look at him attentively, his remaining ear pricked, trying to memorize his rider's voice into his brain, to burn it into his memory so that he would never forget.

With a weak, trembling hand, Hiccup reached up to put it on the side of the dragon's face and smiled once more, a tiny, exhausted smile. "You can't die just yet. Berk…will need to be defended. I count…on you…so go, find Astrid…protect her…protect Berk." The boy coughed again, blood splattering out of his mouth and flew up onto Toothless' snout, making the dragon smell that horrible smell, the only kind of blood Toothless never wished to taste.

Toothless shook his head, letting out another desperate wail. No, he would not leave Hiccup here, to die alone. On pain of death, on pain of his wings being severed from him forever, no, he never will. He never can.

"Toothless…this is necessary," Hiccup insisted, voice growing a tiny bit stronger. His voice made Toothless focus his gaze on him once again. "I can't hold out…much longer." Another cough. Another spray of crimson. "Please, Toothless, do this…do this for me…one last time…just one more time…"

After this, Hiccup went into a fierce fit of coughing, then when he stopped, he didn't open his eyes again, but his hand still remained on Toothless' face. The dragon held still, eyes wide. No. No.

"I'm sorry…Toothless…" a barely-above-a-whisper escaped bloodstained lips. "I didn't…mean…for your last impression…of…me…to be like this. I want…to fly just one last time…" Crystal tears escaped the edges of Hiccup's eyes, falling down. With effort, the sixteen-year-old opened them one last time, so he could remember his dragon, even through the mist before his eyes. "I'm glad I ever met you, buddy," he said, smiling one more time, before his body gave.

For what seemed like an eternity, Toothless stood frozen there. All he could feel was the hand that had slipped from his face and fallen to the cold, cold snow. Hiccup was gone. Gone. Gone forever. To Thor. Never will he hear his warm voice again. Never will he feel those caring hands scratching him again. Never will he have someone to enjoy his flights with him again.

After that eternity, Toothless finally looked up, puppy-green eyes now narrowed into dangerous slits. His body was given renewed strength because of the pure loathing for the Viking tribe who had attacked Berk, who had done this to him.

Loathing for the ones who had slain his rider.

With a roar that was pure madness mixed with grief and hatred and the need to carry out his friend's last wish, the last Night Fury charged back into the battle, a demon in its truest form, driven by the pain of loss.

There was no longer fear to die. There was no longer fear for anything. Just the battle lust that Hiccup had unknowingly tamed and cast aside. Now with that restraint gone, this Night Fury is nothing more than a black shadow of death.

Years and years later, nobody in Berk could forget that demon in dragon form, with its malevolent red-tinged toxic green eyes and its bloodied teeth bare, charging down the street, killing more than half of the invaders before the demon itself was extinguished.

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_I hope you found that a good read. This came from being called to do my math homework D: by my mom, and so, here it is. Leave a review!_

_~the Apprentice (or Cookie; whichever you wish)_


	2. Prompt: Redemption

_So, I've come to a decision: I will make this a series of shorter drabbles I wrote at random that can't be turned into one-shots. To me, one-shots are 1,700 words and more, and drabbles are under that number. Oh, and I will be taking requests, so go ahead and suggest something. I'll try to take as many as possible. _

_Thank you. Now, on with the show! Oh, and these drabbles will be unrelated, seeing as the first time, I killed off Hiccup, and now Toothless' dead too (the demon itself was extinguished, remember?), I can't find a way to go on with them dead. So, yeah, bear with me. But don't worry. More angsty ones comin' soon._

_Disclaimer: I won't be here eating chicken soup and drinking Cooleys if I had had the profit money of How to Train Your Dragon, so no, it's not mine._

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**Prompt: Redemption**

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He hid it as soon as he walked down the narrow wooden stairs of his home and put a crooked smile over it, using that expression to calm his father's worried look.

He let a bit of it show as he walked to his door, back to Stoick, but it was only a slight grimace and a small, very small tightening of the corners of his mouth. As soon as he opened the high doors and stepped out to face a bunch of hungry and in-need-of-cuddling Terrible Terrors, some rookie rider or Astrid herself, it was hidden again. He would wear that crooked smile, his eyes only a little bit cloudy with its persistent poking, and continued on with the day as if he was fine.

He would forget it as soon as he mounted me and we take to the sky. It was the best time of the day, those flights, but only partly because of the feel of the air, of when we were one. It was because I could see that he had managed to outrun its shadow for awhile, if just for awhile.

At the end of the day, when we returned to his home, as he faced the door, my rider would once again allow a tiny wince as his prosthetic foot was dragged around. But as soon as he stepped inside, it was once again controlled in tight harnesses. He would join his father for dinner, the two laughing and talking about what they did for the days. Their awkwardness was showing a little less. I would sit by the fire and munch on my fish, waited for them to finish, then follow my human upstairs.

He would stumble to his desk, lowered himself gratefully into his chair and start sketching something on a piece of "parchment", as humans called it, while I sat near his bed and watched him. He would look at me now and then with a pained smile, and I got the message – it was breaking through. Nothing beats it. Not even us. And of course, my rider handled it well, he was tough, but he would have to bend sometimes. Soon, by the look of it.

When he grew tired of drawing and scribbling or had a new invention and it was too late to do anything about it, he would stretch and yawned mightily before getting up, limping, its shadow gaining now, making him wince, but he made it to the bed and tumbled down with a sigh of relief, then with a wince, moved his left leg and rested it on his right, rolled up his pant sleeve and started to undo that fake leg of his.

I looked away. I didn't want to see the pink, healing flesh of that wound. It was a mark of failure to me, failure that I can't protect him the way I wanted to – the way I was supposed to. Now he was in its constant grasp and would be for awhile before it grows bored with him and goes away. The removal of my tailfin was less painful, since it was only a few stems of thin bone and skin, but this…this was a whole _limb_. And it was _my_ fault.

A hand gently touched the patch of skin behind my left ear, and I looked up into his smiling face. "Hey, I'm okay," he said, his voice soft and soothing, but it was evident on his face, taking up more space in his eyes than it had in the entire day. "This is just a pinch. It'll heal soon."

Yes, it would heal. But how long? I whined and leaned my head against his touch. Just how longer until it stops haunting my rider with me being powerless to do anything?

We remained silent for awhile, then my human grinned. He scooted down a bit to the end of the bed and patted the "mattress" with his other hand invitingly. "Well, it's gonna be a bit cold today, so why don't we share the bed? I'm sure Dad wouldn't mind. After all, he wouldn't want me frozen like an ice cube, now would he?"

My ears perked up instantly with the suggestion, and with a thankful sound, I jumped onto the bed with him, circling my rider and raised one wing so that he could lean against my side. I cooed happily. That's my human. Always know where to poke and what to say to make me feel better or give me a chance to redeem myself.

We were quiet for some time, so I thought he'd fallen asleep and was about to extinguish the candle on a block of wood next to his bed when my rider spoke. "You know, if I get to sleep with this warm pillow-and-blanket-in-one-go all the time, I think losing a leg isn't that much of a deal," he said teasingly, green, sleepy eyes looking at me, a smile hidden in them.

I snorted back and nuzzled his face before turning once more to the candle and blew through my nose. The thing went out, and we were drowned in darkness. In about three or four minutes, my rider's breathing evened out, and he was asleep.

The pain would stay with my human for awhile, but it doesn't matter. I am here, and I can soothe it, even if just somewhat.

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_~the Apprentice_


	3. Prompt: Successor

_I got this inspiration from a friend. She had brown hair and green eyes, and after looking at her for awhile, I thought, "Hey, she looks just like Hiccup and Astrid's daughter!" and then the snowball kept rolling from there and here we are. Enjoy!_

_Disclaimer: I don't own HTTYD. The name Bluebell is also not mine! It belongs to Enchantable, a wonderful writer in the HTTYD fandom and she has given me permission to use it. Check out her fics. You won't be disappointed._

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**Prompt: Successor**

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"No fair, Ulrich! You already ride Toothless yesterday!"

"You rode him for one week straight already! It's my turn!"

"You're unfair!"

"You're hopeless!"

Whilst this argument was going on, Toothless, a bonded Night Fury, only lied lazily on the front porch of the chieftain's house of Berk and watched with a half-opened green eye as his rider's two sons, Ulrich and Stone, argued with each other. It was a common thing around Hiccup's household these days. With the scrawny once-a-boy now married to Astrid and had three kids, the Haddock family had grown dangerously bustling these few years.

Although the two sons had somewhat a touch of Hiccup in them, none of them was exactly like him, Toothless mused as he observed the boys. Stone, the eldest, had flat brunette hair, but his eyes were a fierce blue, lighter than Astrid but held that aggressiveness in them that warned all enemies to back off. Ulrich, younger, had light brown hair and his eyes were green, but again, the fierceness in them came from his mother. Ulrich was an expert at tampering with machines and gadgets of all kind and made them work, while Stone was best at swinging around a battle axe and make heads fly. Both were excellent at dragon riding (they are, after all, the Dragon Boy's kids), but none had that gentleness and magical touch their father had in order to charm even the most vicious Nightmare into a calm sleep.

That left the third. A girl. A _very_ short-tempered and frighteningly violent girl.

"Guys! BEAT IT!" a roar echoed from the house, and one door was thrown open to send something that looked suspiciously like a mule leg flying out, slamming with deadly precision against Ulrich's head, knocking him to the ground. It effectively silenced Stone as well. He stood next to his fallen brother, his mouth hanging open, eyes bulging in surprise.

Toothless snorted in laughter. Oh, yes, out of the three kids, he liked the youngest best. Not only does she know when to put a gag on the two chatters' mouths, she knew exactly what to do in the process of gagging to make him laugh.

She was overall amusing.

"What's up with you, woman?!" Ulrich exclaimed, followed by a groan, as he stood up, holding his temper and glaring through the open doorway. Toothless had scooted over so in case something came flying out again, he wouldn't be in the way. "So you treat dragons and beat brothers, huh?"

"Dragons can't make that much noise in front of somebody's front porch. If you two _babbling baboons_ have _shut up_ when I told you to, that wouldn't have come," the voice in the kitchen shouted back. The girl's in a bad mood today, Toothless noted idly. "Now _quit arguing over a ride_ and go do something useful! Why doesn't one of you ride Bluebell? She's as good as any dragon!"

Both of the boys glanced skyward at the Deadly Nadder perching on their rooftop, her yellow eyes looking down at them expectantly. She had served Astrid faithfully for years now, and although she'd acquired a great number of scars, her flight, although not as fast as Toothless', was just as good in quality.

Stone and Ulrich looked at Bluebell for a minute, then said simultaneously, "I call Toothless!"

"No, I said that first!" Ulrich argued as they ran toward the Night Fury, who was not even saddled yet and who didn't even bother to move, just continued to lie still and watched half-amusedly.

"Yeah, in your dream, Brother," Stone snapped back, trying to push his younger brother (by one year) out of the way. "I called him first!"

"No, I did!"

"I did, you fish-brain!"

Both of them had stopped walking and were standing to argue over who got to ride the only Night Fury known in existence. When they were still busy, the door behind Toothless opened wider to admit a girl, no more than twelve or thirteen with brunette hair and fierce, mischievous green eyes. Her hair was left in a single long braid down her back, but aside from that, she was dressed eerily familiar to her father: sleeveless fur coat, green tunic, green trousers and fur boots. Even the way she held herself was like Hiccup used to. She was fairly clumsy as well, and the only trace of Astrid in her was the violence and the temper, only twice as short.

Looking at her now, Toothless couldn't help himself but imagined he was again looking at a thirteen-year-old Hiccup leaving the house for dragon training, except she wasn't limping and she was a _she_. Still, one way or another, without that certain grace women had around them, Valalhamara the Younger looked just like junior Hiccup.

In her hands, the girl was holding Toothless' saddle gears and a basket of fish. Bluebell, watching her, immediately dropped down next to the girl and cooed a greetings as Valalhamara handed her the basket. The Nadder took it up in her talons and flew away while the girl turned to saddle up the Night Fury, her hands working quickly, efficiently, only pausing now and then in hesitation as she was still new to this kind of saddle. She seldom rode her father's dragon, for Stone and Ulrich took him all the time, and Valalharama generally detested getting herself into a tangible mess.

"That's it," Valalharama said as she finished fastening the last button, while her brothers' bickering was still heard, now moving into more sensitive subjects. Rolling her eyes, the youngest climbed into the saddle and put her leg into the pedal used for Toothless' steer. "Let's go before those two idiots realize what's going on, shan't we, Toothless?"

She reached down to scratch the patch of scale behind Toothless' ear, his favorite spot, the way Hiccup always scratched him, and with a purr of agreement, the Night Fury spread his wings, prepared himself, and shot into the sky. Ulrich and Stone cried out from the earth, but grounded as wingless humans as they are, there was nothing they could do but watch and hear their sister's delighted laughter.

Valalharama steered him excellently, as always. While the other two boys needed practice to fly as Toothless wanted to, the girl did it effortlessly. She was her father's favorite, needless to say, and she was her father's dragon's favorite as well.

Toothless had feared the day when Hiccup's life would end and he would need to take on a successor, a substitute, for his rider, but now, carrying one of Hiccup's children on his back, he thought that maybe, just maybe, it was not as bad as he thought.

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_I'll really enjoy it if you guys leave a review!_

_~the Apprentice_


	4. Prompt: Weapon

_A short one, this drabble. I was bored, humans, so prepare for my onslaught of drabbles today!_

_Disclaimer: I don't own How to Train Your Dragon, although I want a Night Fury plushie!_

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**Prompt: Weapon**

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Most Viking children, at the age of five, have already started testing out all different sorts of weapons to find out which suited them the most. Whether it was the battleaxe, the war hammer or one of the various kinds of weapons the Vikings used, by the time they were ten, they should have adapted perfectly to their chosen tool of war.

But one didn't follow this tradition. In fact, he didn't follow _any_ of the normal Viking traditions. He was born to be different, and different he is. His name is, conveniently, Hiccup Horrendous Haddock III, son of Stoick the Vast, chieftain of Berk.

As the chieftain's son, however, Hiccup was expected to perform these traditions if only because he is the chieftain's son, and so, his father had told him to get a weapon soon, or _he_ will choose Hiccup's training for him and assign _Astrid_, toughest Viking-in-training (and also Hiccup's girlfriend), as his trainer.

When Stoick had told Hiccup that, he'd expected some sorts of begging or defiant protests, but his son only grinned and told Stoick to follow him outside. With great puzzlement, the broad man did so.

Soon as they stepped outside, however, Stoick saw several Monstrous Nightmares, Deadly Nadders and Zipplebacks and of course, Toothless, Hiccup's Night Fury, turning expectant eyes to Hiccup, like they were waiting for a command and some even cooed a welcome. The boy grinned back.

Hiccup smiled at his father before Toothless came up and nudged him, then pointed at the sky with his tail, and with a laugh, Hiccup asked for permission then went to find the saddle for Toothless.

The dragons soon came back to their previous business, trying to puzzle out just what the _heck_ these two-leggers were saying and trying to find someone who could give a promising permanent partnership. Six or seven hungry Terrible Terrors, though, still tagged along after Hiccup and Toothless, although at the Night Fury's glare, they followed at a reasonable distance, chirping like a bunch of noisy birds.

Stoick stood in his doorway, staring after his son's disappearing back and the "shadow" that always walked next to or behind him, green eyes shining. Then he shook his head and returned inside, even though he was smiling. He had to say, he really loved his strange son. There was no rule in the Viking tradition that said your weapon can't be a living being. Like, for instance, loyal dragons.

And if there had been, Hiccup would've broken it anyway, defiantly or unknowingly. He was born just to be different, and that difference was what made him so great.

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_Thanks for reading!_

_~the Apprentice_


	5. Prompt: Trust

_So, I'm back, this time with a much better drabble than the other one, and I like this one wayyy better than any other in this series except for the first. My angsty moments are my best XD_

_Disclaimer: Nope, I don't own How to Train Your Dragon, although I think I'm going to Wal-Mart to buy a Toothless plushie...if they had them._

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**Prompt: Trust**

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I remembered the time when I heard his scream, but the time was vague, and even the day was vague now, years later.

But the most impression I had of that time, though, was the panic I've felt surging through my veins at his cry.

I have raced toward the rocks surrounding me, keeping me prisoner and keeping me safe at the same time in that valley, trying to fly, just to remember that I cannot – without him, I am nothing more than a crippled dragon, so I had to climb. It was a shock, really, seeing as I cannot climb those steep, treacherous walls to save myself, but at his scream, I was able to cover them in less than half a minute.

Of all the times of urgency in my life, of all the times when the humans chased me, of all the times when I had to bring down a fast and skittish prey, I have never ran as fast as I have at the time when I thought he was going to die or at least was going to be hurt badly.

As I closed in to the human dwellings, I leaped into the air, using only my wings to support myself and dove at the cage my rider was trapped within with a furious Monstrous Nightmare, and he was lying under her claws, waiting for death.

I blasted open the iron bars and dove into the mist, my nose, high with adrenaline, spotting out the Nightmare even though I could see almost nothing in the dusts, and I pushed her off my human, away, far away. She tried to get past me, but I roared, warning her. I cannot let her near him. I need him.

Only later, however, did I realize that I didn't need him as a steer, but as a friend. Night Furies lived lonely lives, for we are among the Greater Dragons, and we didn't mingle with the lesser ones, so we couldn't find many friends. When we had one, we hung on to that one for ages, and this human, this pathetically weak but also frighteningly strong human I was giving away my freedom, my life, to protect, was just like I. We cannot stay in a crowd. We just simply…don't belong. And through our loneliness, through his kindness and my acceptance, we saw each other as friends.

I can protect him, and I will. I trust him.

When the Nightmare was defeated, he appeared by my side, pushing me away. "Go," he hissed. "Toothless, just go!" But I couldn't. These humans have _locked him into a cage_ with a _Nightmare_ – an _unstable_ Nightmare with the smell of loss and revenge tainting her, so how in Odin's name can I know for sure they wouldn't do anything to him when I left?

But he was right. They did catch me. They put me into a bunch of strong chains so that I couldn't escape, and they loaded me onto one of their ships and steered toward the Nest, so I could give away its coordination and betray my kins. Joy. They will kill the lesser dragons and be killed by the Queen. There is no winner in this. My human's sire was leading his own people to their death.

But before the ship went away, I arched my neck and saw my rider standing there, high on a platform made of wooden planks, his eyes sad and miserable, but deep under that, as he moved from his sire's face to me, I saw that familiar flash of something in his eyes, and that, more than anything, calmed me.

The ships moved too far away for me to look anymore, and I lowered my head and closed my eyes, but I was reassured.

My rider…my best friend…had promised, and he wouldn't break it, I was sure.

_I'll come for you, even if it means the death of me. Wait. _

Fine, I will wait. Because I trust you.

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_Reviews are loved. Thanks for reading! Oh, and I'm not sure what Hiccup said as he went to Toothless in the arena, but I think I had the general idea, so forgive me if the sentence was wrong._

_~the Apprentice_


	6. Prompt: Accuracy

_I'm back, and I must say, I'm satisfied with this one, and I hardly ever am satisfied with my stories. But this? I love it. Final Math exam's tomorrow, so I'm working off steams with this piece. This is about 1,700 words, nearly a one-shot, excluding the note. More on the bottom. Now, enjoy!_

_Disclaimer: I don't own How to Train Your Dragon, otherwise it won't be as awesome as it was. I hope they're making a sequel._

**Prompt: Accuracy**

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The light breezes ran under the pine leaves of the evergreen trees, under the clear blue sky, around the white, puffy clouds and swayed the grasses on the earth. It was warm, and the peacefulness that might as well be spelled in the air in that clearing made everything seems okay. Nobody would ever expect any sort of violence to happen anytime soon, under that sky.

As a matter of fact, however, there were six people standing on the vast clearing somewhere in Berk's forest, all of them holding different kinds of weapons, a great bag of other tools of war lying at their feet. One of the six was a scrawny teenager with green trousers, fur boots and fur coat, but the thing that made him different about others was not his size or the fact that he wore no armory except for the obviously way too heavy battleaxe he was holding, but it was his left leg.

It was wooden with some unique contraptions on it.

"So remind me why I'm out here testing out weapons instead of trying to make sure Dad and your parents don't fall off their dragons soon as they're off the ground again," Hiccup Horrendous Haddock III said, glancing up from the battleaxe he was holding with a grimace, his gaze directed at a blonde girl clad in reasonably light armors standing next to him, swinging the same kind of battleaxe with perfect ease, smirking.

"Because the chieftain asked me to at least _check_ to see if you have _any_ skill at combat at all," Astrid answered, smiling at him, but somehow, Hiccup wasn't quite reassured. That was the exact same smile she'd given an enemy before she introduced them to her battleaxe, and even though they had a rather huge crush on each other, he _still_ wasn't reassured. Astrid was generally unpredictable.

That was just the thing: Hiccup knew exactly how to touch a dragon, where to scratch them and what to give them to win their affection, but he had no idea how to deal with his semi-girlfriend. Toothless, his Night Fury, understood this, and he rolled his eyes six times a day sometimes, when he saw how awkward his rider was with Astrid.

With a sigh, Hiccup turned to the other four, consisting of one well-muscled boy, one blonde fat kid and two other blonde kids, one male, one female, looking almost exactly alike. "And why did you guys come here?" he asked.

"Oh, y'know, I was just going to see if I can help you with anything," Snoutlout grinned, swinging around his war hammer like it was a toy. Far away from the group, near the forest edge and a bunch of boulders, five dragons observed the teenagers, six pair of curious eyes following them (Zippleback had two heads) as they watched, unsure of exactly what to make of this get-together.

The scrawny Viking rolled his eyes. "Okay, that explained you. But what about Ruff, Tuff and Fishlegs?" he turned to the last three.

"We're bored!" the female blonde answered. Then she scowled at the one who was pretty sure to be her twin. "And we got kicked out of the house for the rest of the day 'cause this moron made the kitchen look like it's been hit by a hungry load of Terrible Terrors."

"Hey, who'cha blamin', ugly?" Tuffnut demanded. "Ain't you the one who opened the kitchen door in the first place and got those Terrors inside?"

"So you're blaming me now?" Ruffnut grabbed a fistful of her brother's fur coat and braced up her other fist. "Wanna eat my fist?"

Let's get back to the others before the twins go past the PG violence rating…

"I got dragged along by Ruff and Tuff," Fishlegs, the most polite in the entire group, explained. He shrugged and picked up a spiked mace. "And there's nothing to do back at the village anyway. So yeah, here I am."

At this point, Hiccup just sighed and rolled his eyes in defeat, looking at the bunch of weapons scattered on the grass then at the axe he was still holding. "So where do I start?" he asked no one in particular.

"Why don't we see how good you've become with that battleaxe?" Astrid grinned and held up her own.

All the famous Dragon Boy had for that was a whimper.

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It turned out, an hour and a half later, that Hiccup wasn't good at anything his five friends often handled. He couldn't even swing a battleaxe without at least staggering, he can't hold up a war hammer properly to bring it crashing down on anyone's head (or maybe it would probably crash on his own head as he swung it back; let's not go to that), the mace was the same, and sword? Better than the others, but only amateur.

"Still hadn't improved at all, huh?" Astrid blew out a blonde strand of hair from her face, not even breathing hard, her battleaxe resting on her shoulder with ease as she looked at the bent over form of Hiccup.

"I calm the dragons with kitty grass, fish and my hands, not weapons," the scrawny boy answered, straightening, his cheeks crimson. Astrid liked him, but it didn't mean she would be gentle when it comes to criticizing. Still, he got a pretty good reason, and nobody will argue with him as soon as his leg clicked into Toothless' pedal.

"But still, you need at least average skills with some kind of weapons," Astrid argued. "What if Toothless wasn't there? He isn't _you_, Hiccup. There will be some time in your life you are attacked and you two are part!"

Hiccup got no argument for that.

The Viking girl turned and saw the twins swinging around a spiked mace and a war hammer, looked like they were very ready to slam them down on one another's head. With a sigh, she walked to them, attempting to at least calm them down to "reasonable" level.

Snoutlout and Fishlegs went to assist her while Hiccup gloomily stared at the weapons on the ground. He was feeling useless again. Now that the dragons were introduced to Berk again, he was starting to get used to the feeling that he was needed, but this…this got his spirit down again.

It was then that he caught the only weapon he hadn't tried out lying pretty innocently under a bunch of axes and hammers. Hiccup blinked. It wasn't a common weapon of the Vikings, who preferred honor in hand-to-hand combat, but somebody had decided to bring it.

Slowly, he reached down and pulled it out, lifting it to his hand and testing the weight. It was perfect. Then he tested the string. Perfect as well. He started looking for its projectiles and spotted them lying under another heap of mighty-looking battleaxes in their traditional container, and he picked up as well, hesitantly swinging it onto his back and pulled out one of the pointed death sticks.

Far away, Toothless' eyes suddenly narrowed as he remembered that instrument on his rider's back, and he cooed. So he was going to show them after all.

Hiccup, meanwhile, concentrated on notching an arrow onto the willow bow. He hadn't fired an arrow since he was twelve, and after meeting Toothless, Hiccup altogether avoided any kind of weapons around his friend. He didn't want to lose the dragon's trust (but grew into a habit after awhile). In silence, Hiccup looked around to find a suitable target, and he spotted a cluster of pine cones on top of a high pine tree, about ninety yards from where he was standing. His eyes narrowed in determination.

"Hiccup, c'mon, we've gotta get back –" Astrid was saying as she turned around, only to see the scrawny boy holding the bow like a seasoned hunter, his eyes narrowed in concentration, and shushed the others.

They saw the sign, saw Hiccup, and they fell quiet, but Hiccup wasn't paying attention. He finally took a stand, raised the bow, pulled the string to full draw, and released.

The arrow flew, hit the cluster of pine cones, and plucked one right out of them in the very center. As the others stared, clearly seeing the shot and the nailed pine cone, Hiccup lowered his bow and frowned. "That could've gone better," he muttered.

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From his place on top of a boulder with his own friends, Toothless laughed as Astrid, Snoutlout, Fishlegs, Tuff and Ruff dragged Hiccup to the forest to look for the arrow, halfway through the pine cone. He'd seen (and – he winced – tasted) Hiccup's aim before. He'd also seen the boy shoot. It was only once, during a dragon raid two years back, when Hiccup was twelve. His target had been a Monstrous Nightmare, and although he was pushed off his feet before anybody could identify the source of the arrow, from his place in the sky, Toothless could clearly see that had the thing not set itself on fire at just the knack of time, that arrow would've gone straight through its heart.

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From then on, the chieftain's son was usually seen with a bow and a quiver, and people only yelled taunts (jokes, of course, but for the sake of safety) when they were on dragon backs, well away from arrow's reach.

Smart folks.

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_Let's face the fact: Hiccup shot Toothless down, at _night_, when he was in his element, which means he must have excellent accuracy to do that, no matter how many times he'd tried (maybe all his life?). Maybe it's luck, but I still wanted to write this piece one way or another. _

_Review!_

_~the Apprentice_


	7. Prompt: Loss

_Another one. We're doing the Reading final exam tomorrow (7th grade sucks), so I gift you with this piece before I go off to headbutt the test. _

_Disclaimer: I don't own How to Train Your Dragon. Don't this site have the add-on disclaimer button somewhere?_

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**Prompt: Loss**

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Toothless couldn't remember the last time he lost somebody so very important to him that made him just want to sit there next to their corpse and never stand up, never face the world again. His sires died a violent death, in the Dragon Queen's stomach, but that was a century ago, and there was no corpse to mourn next to or to bury. Beside, he had himself to worry about.

Still, what he could remember about it was that it hurts, more than anything, more than any sort of physical weapon could ever cause you. You bleed, but your soul bleeds, so there's no way to cork the flow. It will just keep flowing and flowing and flowing, and your blood is your tears, until it finally runs dry, leaving you shocked and cold and wanted to die.

Now, standing over his rider and Stoick's lifeless, bleeding body, the Night Fury suddenly remembered that feeling crystal clear, and as he watched the tears that rolled down Hiccup's cheeks, saw his bloodstained hands, he loathed that pain ever existed. Sure, it meant you are alive and all, but it _makes_ you want to die.

All around them, there were cheers of victory, before anybody found the chieftain's body, the Night Fury and his son in that alley, but now, in the present, all Toothless could hear were Hiccup's wracked sobs, all he could see were his rider's fingers resting on the hole on Stoick's chest that had caused his death. Hiccup didn't seem to give a care to that cut on his side, to his broken right leg, to anything, and his dragon understood. They always understood each other.

Sometimes, they were glad for it, so they could share their happiness. Other times…

"Why?" Hiccup's voice said through the sobs, suddenly, brokenly. "_Why_, Toothless? Why does _he_ have to die, of all people?" The boy leaned forward and rested his forehead on the back of his hands. Toothless couldn't speak the same language as his rider, but he grumbled mournfully and encircled Hiccup with his tail, pressing him closer and resting his head near the boy's trembling shoulder.

_That's the way the world works, hatchling. I can shield you from death, but I cannot shield you from death's pain. _Toothless closed his eyes, listening to the heartbeats of his rider, the sobs and the pain that radiated from his friend in waves. There was nothing he could do. Not now. The blood was flowing too fast, and nothing could cork it.

At length, there were shouts as the Vikings discovered their leader's body, sympathetic sounds and talks as they saw Stoick's son, then silence as they caught the Night Fury's glare.

Eventually, Astrid and Fishlegs pulled Hiccup away from the body, who promptly passed out from blood loss and exhaustion as soon as he stood up and fell out of his friends' grips, only to be caught by Tuff and Ruff, whose faces showed nothing more than sorrow and sympathy, none of the aggressive they always showed, and was put on Toothless' back, who was also exhausted, injured, but somewhat intact.

They raced toward the Healer's house, but all the time they ran across what was supposed to be the glorious Berk, now lying in ruins and covered with bodies, Toothless could feel the salty tears that continued to flow from Hiccup's closed eyes, could hear the sound of his hitched breathings, and the dragon unconsciously unsheathed his teeth, biting into his gums and produced a bit of blood.

He closed his eyes in regret.

_I'm sorry, little one. This is my best. _

_And by that, Toothless meant that that's all he can do to for Hiccup to his mental pain. If you have a close friend, you know how it feels when you see them cry and you can do absolutely NOTHING for them. It hurts. _

_Reviews are appreciated!_

_~the Apprentice_


	8. Prompt: Riders

_I blame this piece's creation on the boring day. Either way, enjoy!_

_Disclaimer: I don't remember where I read this fanfic about dragons bein' possessive, but I want you to know that it was inspired by someone aside from me, and How to Train Your Dragon isn't mine either._

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**Prompt: Riders**

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Dragons are possessive.

It was a known fact anybody knows. Well, the ones who have been in contact with dragons anyway.

They protected their territories and foods jealously, and one who tries to thief from a dragon – don't count on seeing them again. To the intelligent reptiles, anything taken from them was like a tooth taken from a human, and although it doesn't physically hurt, when a dragon lets something in its possession gets stolen, that's one hell of a blow to their ego.

For a dragon to actually share its property with anybody or anything, one of its kin or another kind, was a sign of _complete_ trust and respect. Few dragons have willingly done this, and certainly not more than a handful of the Higher Dragons.

When a dragon says something like "my friend", it means that the friend belongs to it – more like a property as well. It was just like how humans say "my most treasured reminder of a dead grandma" and meant it exactly that way, no more, no less. So when a dragon considers something a friend, except for or even its own mate, it will be extremely territorial over that friend.

However, when a dragon says "my rider", that is a completely different story.

By saying that, the dragon accepted, grudgingly or not, that the person referred by that title is its equal – and dragon egos have crazy sizes – in all ways except for physical, and the mind always goes deeper than the body. It means that this "rider" has almost complete control over the dragon and can charm it into doing almost anything, as long as enough persuasive words were given. It means that when this rider is gone, there will be no second, and there never will be. No substitute, no betrayal. The contract is signed as soon as the dragon utters this word to refer to its partner.

Few people understood this, and certainly not on Berk. In fact, not one understood that. The dragon riders there were referred to by their dragons as "friends" and "masters" for the humblest ones.

Of course, humans often don't understand anything more intelligent than an ape, but there was one boy who went very close to totally understanding that term, and his dragon, of course, perfectly understood that.

In his generation and seven more after that, Hiccup Horrendous Haddock III was the only one referred to by his Night Fury, Toothless, as "my rider".

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_Dragon respect. Nothing harder to earn...except for a walk alone around the neighborhood from your overprotective mom. I think. _

_I'll do a pair of this. The next one will be "dragons". Until then, read and review and know that I'm thankful that you click on this story!_

_~the Apprentice_


	9. Prompt: Worth

_Writer's block with the promised drabble, "Dragon", but it'll come around some time soon. Now, enjoy this. _

_Disclaimer: Although I have the necessary equipments to watch the movie, How to Train Your Dragon is not mine._

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**Prompt: Worth**

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There are three different classes of dragons in the world: Lesser, Common and Higher. The Lesser class included dragons that are at the bottom of our society – weak, pathetic or anything between that and more. The common dragons with average intelligence and made mountable companions, include the Deadly Nadders, Hideous Zipplebacks, Gronkles and Monstrous Night-mares, with the addition of a few others.

Then there is the Higher class. Dragons in this class, including Night Furies such as myself and other elusive species, even though mountable, almost never accept a companion, a rider or even tolerate one for that mattered.

Among them, my kind is one of the proudest races. Throughout our history as long as we can remember and can pass back, there had only been three of our kind to take on a rider. As I arrived on this island and was pulled into the control of the Queen, I understood why. The humans are smelly, vain, stupid and everything else that can be used to describe a beast. And they called _us_ beasts.

In our race, the submission to anything but the other three even greater dragons is a shame, and we will either be killed or has that "disgrace" removed. If I am to be found out by my cousins and siblings that I have fallen for a human's friendship, my rider will be killed, and my name will forever be blotted out of my race's history.

That, more than anything else, kept me on edge the first time I and my human met. To let him go when I had him under my claws was my first mistake – or perhaps it was the opposite. I have shown him mercy.

But then as time passed, as we get to know each other better, my pride and my alertness and even my fear of being removed forever from my people's history became less and less…real. All that was real was _him_ – the respectable and strange hatchling who had his own peculiar ways of making me warm up to him. My hatred to his kind faded more and more each day, replaced by the image of him with that funny expression of his on his face when he was happy.

Within a month of knowing each other, my memories started to blur. No longer did I see the human dwellings lit up in flame as I soared through the sky with the hatchling's help. I only felt his familiar and reassuring weight on my back, and sometimes, I was rewarded with a delighted laughter from the young one. That, more than anything, cheered me up.

Still, even as dragons and humans have finally, _finally_ settled down with a peace treaty and lived with tolerance within fifty meters of each other, sometimes, on the sleepless nights, I still felt a cold, icy, sharp spear of worry and shame lance through me as I lied in that room that belonged to my human, listening to him breathe. As much I have changed, I still am a dragon in all senses, and our nature is _pride_.

But then the feelings were dashed away as my rider would mutter in his sleep, "Toothless", and I couldn't help it but purr and settled back down. I would listen to his even, peaceful breathing and the silent night, and I will smile.

It doesn't really matter, does it, if I get removed from my kind's history. It doesn't matter if I was spit on, if I was trampled on.

What matters, though, is my rider's safety. And as his dragon, his mount, his _friend_, most of all, I will make sure of that. This human I have grown so attached to, his worth overrides everything – _everything_.

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_I enjoy writing in Toothless' perspective. I sort of understand how a dragon feels...if they are real. It's weird, but it's really not a lie. I hope you liked it!_

_Reviews are loved!_

_~the Apprentice_


	10. Prompt: Queen

_Don't ask me where I got this from. I suddenly feel like writing from the Green Death's point of view, so, yeah, here we go!_

_Disclaimer: Check the other chapters. You'll see them there as well, but shouldn't it be obvious that I'm on this site 'cause I'm not owning the stuff?_

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**Prompt: Queen**

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The Green Death's control over the dragons forced under her command was so strong it was almost a fairy tale. Her enormous mind was powerful even if it had been dulled a bit by the millennia she had lived. Now, faced with a rebel and a puny human on his back, she didn't see any reason why she should tire herself with flying while she could call the Night Fury to come straight into her mouth.

So she did. And he resisted her.

If she had said it fairly, she shouldn't be too surprised. This dragon, unlike the rest, was intelligent and strong. He was, in fact, only three steps under her in the Higher Dragons class, but that shouldn't have mattered. He always submitted in time. So she tried again.

And found herself defiantly blocked out.

Roaring in frustration, for her flight was tiring her, the Green Death tried again, this time pushing harder. Why did his mind suddenly become so strong? Why _now_, of all times?

This time, the Night Fury drooped a bit, but his companion yelped, and he hastily righted himself again.

With another roar from even more frustration, the Green Death sped up, her powerful wings propelling her forward, almost reaching the traitor and his little friend, but the human bent over and the black dragon shot forward, not too far away but still out of her reach.

It was _maddening_.

Then the two of them, both idiots, both nasty, pathetic beings, brought _her_, the glorious Dragon Queen down with not as much hard work as she would have liked.

However, before she plummeted to her death, the Queen saw a flitting image in her mind, no doubt from the falling Night Fury's: a sunny day in a valley with a lake, sitting curled up next to the same human who had helped brought her down, listening to a tale the child was telling. She felt the Night Fury's lips etched up in a smile. Then she felt something else she had not felt for centuries. It was a warm, fulfilling sensation that made her insides heat up, not because she spits fire, but because of that feeling's effect.

After all these years, the Dragon Queen was still able to tell the name of the feeling, taught to her by no one other than her own rider, long, long, long ago: Love.

Suddenly, the Queen understood. The Night Fury blocked her out because he knew that if he gave in, it was not going to be just him who will die. His rider will follow, and she could understand the fear of thinking about his companion's death. That was why he was able to block her out with relative ease. He would risk anything for that boy as she had once risked for her own man, but he had succeeded in keeping him alive, and she had not. She felt a pang of jealousy. The lucky reptile.

_Fools, _she thought bitterly as the ground rushed to meet her. _All fools. All of you._

_Nothing is needed to be said except for this: I'm working on a Toothless-turned-human fanfic with a new twist, so...yeah, I'm trying my best. Put me on Author's Alert, all of y'all who wants our favorite dragon to be diminished into a puny human! And this isn't going to be slash! Don't you see? Astrid will butcher Toothless up because Astrid is hers, no matter who he is or what he is. _

_~the Apprentice_


	11. Prompt: Discovered

_Just went to the theater today. Watched HTTYD three times in a row. I also realized that you guys wanted to see what would happen when another Night Fury finds out about Toothless' friendship with a human, so here you go. _

__

Disclaimer: This humble middle schooler owns no HTTYD.

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Prompt: Discovered

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When Toothless accepted Hiccup as his rider, he knew the risk he would cause the hatchling if one of his own kinds finds out about the bond they've shared. To bow down to a human is an unspeakable shame. The shame must be removed immediately and the dragon shall be blotted forever from his clan's history.

Still, after years living as the only Night Fury on Berk, he'd finally grown into the habit of thinking another Night Fury would probably never visit, and he could certainly defend Hiccup against whatever danger anything presents them with.

Now, lying helplessly on the ground, having lost too much blood to even move and only able to watch as a larger Night Fury, an ancient male, pressed his rider deeper and deeper into the harsh ground, hearing Hiccup's hitched, suppressed breathings and feeling the terror radiating from the hatchling, Toothless realized that he couldn't protect Hiccup.

The boy was going to die. All because of his selfishness, all because he wanted to fly again. All because the Night Fury was a sissy and didn't want to be lonely anymore.

"Toothless!" Hiccup cried out suddenly, yelping as the bigger Night Fury atop him push him down harder, charring his ribs. "Run! Forget about me! Just _go!_"

_Go where?_ Toothless wanted to shout in frustration. _I can't move! I can't leave you._

"_Touching,"_ the older Night Fury growled in mirth, bending closer to Hiccup's face, hot breath blowing back the blood-soaked brunette hair. Deep and hateful sea-blue eyes met with frightened leafy green. The fire gas started to build up in the Night Fury's mouth. _"Too bad, if you haven't been human, you would've been a great friend."_

He pressed harder, suddenly, violently, and Toothless could hear Hiccup's ribs snapped above the strangled cry of pain. He saw the blue glow in the dragon's mouth even through his blurred version, and the full force of the situation smacked him in the face.

_Hiccup is going to die._

_He can do nothing. _

_No, that's not true. Toothless _can_ do something, but it will hurt._

_To _Thor_ with his pain. He can't lose his only close friend, the only one who_ truly _understands him. _

With a roar mixed with pure willpower and fear of loss, Toothless hauled himself onto his feet. He made a dash toward the older Night Fury and blasted his third-to-last shot of the day into its face, blowing it backward and off Hiccup.

Leaping over the gasping petite body, Toothless landed between them, roaring furiously. The other Night Fury was picking itself up again, surprise painting its eyes. But then the blue orbs narrowed in anger and the dragon sucked in a breath.

That was its mistake.

Although two times smaller than his attacking kin, Toothless learned a few things from Hiccup that proves valuable against any dragon, and as the gas gathered thickly in the other Night Fury's mouth, he sent off his own blast, into the gas.

Night Fury's fire doesn't just burn – they explode on intact, and soon the older, the more vicious of the two found its maw ripped apart. It reared, squawking like a pathetic injured parrot, blood dripping from its mouth until Toothless found he could no longer stand straight. With effort, he remained on his feet, readying his last shot of fire.

Turns out, it was no need. The other Night Fury stumbled around until it crashed backward, into the geological bowl behind it, surprisingly almost the exact same one where Toothless had crashed into when he first met Hiccup. The bonded dragon waited until the yelps and noises died down, then turned skyward and finished his last shot.

Blue fire raced upward like a comet, exploding high in the sky and drawing all of Berk's attention. With the reassurance that their friends and family knew about where they were, Toothless stumbled toward Hiccup's stilled form.

Toxic green eyes searched the face of the boy, noting the even paler and clammy skin, the tightly closed eyes, the blood-soaked clothes and the labored breathings. His chest tightening in worry, Toothless settled himself in a half-moon position around Hiccup, not daring to lift the boy from the ground because of his broken ribs.

In silence, Toothless listened to his rider's breathings, his own consciousness fading. Already, he could hear shouts from the woods, about some miles back. They will be found. Hiccup will be alright after weeks of resting and getting a punch from Astrid from worrying her. Toothless himself will be, too, given enough time so he could heal. He would not have to give up his remaining tailfin or any other body parts, though, and he was relieved.

Finally, though, Hiccup said in a painful half-laugh, "We made it again, didn't we, buddy?"

Immensely relieved to hear the familiar voice again, Toothless cooed in reply and dropped his head into his paws, curling tightly around Hiccup and closed his eyes. Hiccup had sunk into a deep sleep right after he spoke, and Toothless soon found himself following.

Before unconsciousness claimed him, however, Toothless was allowed one last thought.

_Didn't we always?_

_

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_

I don't think anything is needed to be said. Review!

_~the Apprentice_


	12. Prompt: Bullies

_So, I am very proud to tell you that I am very much alive. Now, enjoy this while I whip up the next chapter for _Pride of the Dragon_._

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**Prompt: Bullies**

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Once every year, the southern tribes, brothers and sisters of Stoick the Vast will come to Berk and have three weeks there to drink, burp and brought their kids along so they could get into "noble Viking fights" and butt heads with the kids at Berk.

It was also a joyful thing for the said southern tribes that the next heir to Stoick was a skinny, good-for-nothing, clumsy talking fishbone. See, this opens lots of opportunities for those moronic brawny kids, because they can all blame it on Hiccup's clumsiness instead of truly take the blame for themselves, which these spoiled bunches of muscles will go to great lengths to avoid.

Such was the thoughts of the burly Viking heirs of the other tribes as they sailed for Berk, giddy to carry out their most well-planned prank on the poor (and they will learn later, crippled) fishbone.

However, as soon as they stepped onto Berk's dock and saw Hiccup standing there to greet them, they paled.

Rephrase: they paled when they saw the thing that stood at his side, one tail curled protectively around the chieftain's son, toxic green eyes glowing threateningly.

Of course, being stubborn Vikings, one or two boys tried to "deal" with Hiccup when Toothless wasn't around. The first was pinned on the ground the moment his fist connected with Hiccup's stomach by a positively wrath-filled and protective Night Fury. The second and the last got blasted by sixteen blue fireballs that exploded on impact. On Hiccup's request, they'd all missed, but it got the victim in a pretty devastating state, still.

And aside from Toothless, there was a group of six loyal teenagers who would risk anything for the boy, including an axe-swinging volatile blonde girl. Oh, and let's not forget all the dragons on Berk, shall we? They tend to be _very_ pissed when somebody attacks one of their leaders, who had rightfully claimed his place from the Dragon Queen.

Oh, yes, Hiccup Horrendous Haddock the Third proves to be a very dangerous man when he follows his heart.

But, on the good note, ever since that time onward, even when the dragons stopped hissing and glaring at the lot, the other heirs of the southern tribes never again even tried to lay a hand on Hiccup again.

The issue goes unrepeated for years, but whenever one of the boys even half-glared at Hiccup, Toothless roared loudly.

Peace was ensured among the heirs immediately.


	13. Prompt: Abduction

_This started out as a dead serious prompt, but then I go into DeviantArt, saw a few pictures, burst out laughing and this morphed into the hideous monster here. One way or another, read on._

_Disclaimer: The name Bluebell belongs to an amazing author called Enchantable and I have been given permission to use it. How to Train Your Dragon belongs to Dreamworks and I'm just borrowing the Berk folks._

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Prompt: Abduction

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Being an heir to the Hairy Hooligans' tribe, one of the most powerful Viking villages in the northern sea and a wimp in some ways or other, Hiccup obviously had been viewed as a perfect hostage target by other more bloodthirsty tribes who wanted some competitions. Actually, it had happened before.

When he was four, Hiccup got charmed into one of the boats of the fellow Viking tribe right across the ocean at a promise to be shown a tamed Deadly Nadder, but the child had gotten off the ship with not a scratch later on when Valhallamara, furious and concerned, stopped the ship with her own fleet and weathered the fellow tribe's Viking down into a sore beating whilst taking her precious child back.

At the age of six, the same thing happened, this time to show the now over-curious heir a new invention. There had been a real invention, and while Hiccup was too busy going goggle-eyed on the thing (which was in fact an imperfect version of the gun Hiccup used to shoot Toothless down years later), he had been knocked over the head and tied up.

Valhallamara was dead by that time, so it was Stoick who threw a fit. Ey, no, rephrase: he threw stones. Yep, after the chieftain took Hiccup back, he ordered his people to fire burning balls of straws at the ships, setting them on fire as he personally wrenched the captain's neck.

After this little "incident", nobody tried to touch the chieftain's son again for seven years. Then came Toothless, followed by the dragons, followed by the fact that Hiccup was a highly regarded hero and he had a mollycoddling Night Fury as a best friend. This itself was enough to scare away folks who were too stubborn on getting their hands on the heir to back off hastily after two visits to Berk, greeted merrily by Stoick and offered to "meet" Toothless.

The chieftain had wanted to see how intelligent Toothless was and how good he was at protecting Hiccup. He wasn't disappointed. The first man who grabbed the skinny boy's arm and refused to let go when asked returned home with bloody puncture marks on his hand. Toothless absolutely refused to let anybody from the fellow tribes come close to his human without permission first.

Still, craftiness wasn't a Viking trait that belonged solely to Hiccup. Two weeks from his fourteenth birthday, Hiccup was abducted.

It had been the Reeking Rogues tribe, a distance directly east of Berk. The leader, Moro the Slayer, had an old grudge against Stoick for something that had to do about letting Berk being tainted with "foul beasts" – a.k.a dragons. Of course, it had been discarded as foolish, but as Stoick was willing to let it go, Moro wasn't. That, somehow, added to the fact that Moro wanted to teach Stoick that the beasts were nothing better than dumb animals with teeth and foul breath, resulted in Hiccup being tied down, gagged (he talked too much – that was his fault) and sitting near the boat's mast as they sailed home.

To be completely honest, Hiccup was only slightly worried. His friends, including a possibly very annoyed Astrid, will arrive on dragon backs and burst him out of here given enough time. Stoick might catch up as well in his own time and he might twist a few wrists and crack some bones, but that would probably be it.

But then that left a Night Fury. A possessive, loyal and absolutely _pissed_ Night Fury.

_Actually_, Hiccup thought as roars were heard in the distance and a sudden blue ball of flame shot toward the ship's hull from the ocean, _let's move that up several more notches to the level of "Ragnarok Deliverer"_. Even though they were his kidnappers, Hiccup had to wince in sympathy as the familiar black shadow with huge toxic green eyes leaped onboard and announced his arrival with an enraged roar before happily tackling every Viking in sight.

Men were still sailing through the air like yawn balls by the time Astrid was done removing all of Hiccup's bindings. They ducked as another burly Reeking Rogue flew overhead to kiss the ocean and Astrid had to pull her boyfriend to the left just in time to dodge yet another unlucky man who was stupid enough to try and attack Toothless from behind.

"At this rate, there won't be much for your dad to deal with once he got here," Astrid remarked as they hid behind a stack of crates. They could've left on Bluebell, Astrid's Nadder, but Toothless would be fuming for days if that happened. Hiccup was too happy to see his friend again to risk that.

"No kidding," the scrawny Viking nodded. They had a brief image of bodies lied strewn all over the floor as two blue fireballs were released at almost the exact same time.

Turns out Stoick did have someone to wrestle, after all. Toothless had thoughtfully left the chief of the Reeking Rogues for the burly man, and said man cheerfully set out on the task of avenging a (failed) attempt at abduction of his son. Toothless then proceeded to set the chief's fur cloak on fire, waited for it to burn a bit before tossing him overboard. Stoick also found a basket full of, um, disgusting stuff and dumped it over the chief's head. It was then finished off by a blue fireball from the dragon, shot way too close to the man for comfort but not really harming him.

After this little misadventure, nobody bothered Stoick's heir again. Also, to most people's surprise, Stoick suddenly became very friendly toward his son's black dragon.


	14. Prompt: Court

**Prompt: Court**

Toothless was regarded as a "he". Nobody asked Hiccup how he knew the Night Fury was a he, and the few who cared enough to ask was answered with a shrug. Hiccup just called his dragon "he" because it feels right to him and it was, in fact, a default.

Of course, nobody cared to ask, but imagine their surprise when three different Night Furies showed up on Berk with the sole purpose to court their resident black dragon.

The first dragon was a lean, large Night Fury with glossy black scales and sparkling blue eyes that looked like a prince from heaven, and Hiccup along with his friends had greeted him with wonder and pleasure. Toothless got along pretty well with the newcomer, too, until the second one shows up.

This one was rougher than the first with marks of scars all over his body and a severed ear. He was also extremely large – easily twice the size of Toothless – and he was fierce. He bested the first in seconds during combat while Hiccup ached to stop the fight, but Toothless merely stopped him with a gentle growl and a circled tail.

Of course, by then, Hiccup and the gang had had some suspicions. Only male dragons start the courting to the females. But if Toothless was a male, then how come all these rough-looking dragons –

Their thoughts were cut off then by the arrival of the last Night Fury, a truly magnificent one. This one bore the look of a leader, and although not as powerful as the second arrival in muscle mass, he was quick on his feet and had enough sense to be nice to Hiccup – and instantly won Toothless over. He beat the other two in combat with less struggle than any of them had imagined, too.

As this was happening and Toothless and the new Night Fury started to spend more and more time together, the First Dragon Riders of Berk finally started figuring out stuff now that the distractions had eased. Hiccup admitted that he called Toothless a "he" as a default because there was no way to tell if his dragon was a male or a female. Suspicions rose; rumors flew around town that the fiercely protective and exceptionally cute Night Fury might be a dragoness after all.

Unluckily, right at this point, Toothless and the other black dragon vanished. They were gone for a week as Hiccup worried his eyeballs out and bumped into even more objects than he usually does. Of course he was worried. Toothless was his best friend, and no matter how much he trusted Night Wind, the other Night Fury, he still couldn't abide the concern in his stomach.

At the end of the week, however, one of the pair returned. It was Night Wind. The black dragon had bounded happily into town at two o'clock in the morning, dragged Hiccup out of bed and all the way deeper into the mountains of Berk. Finally, they stopped in front of a cave.

Night Wind pushed a now wide-awake Hiccup inside, his sea-green eyes eager. Obeying curiously, followed by Astrid and Snotlout, Hiccup went inside. What he saw nearly gave him a heart attack.

There was his dragon gazing at him with toxic green eyes lying near a cluster of black eggs. As he approached shakily, Toothless cooed an affectionate welcome and gestured toward the eggs. But Hiccup wasn't particularly worried about that right now. He wanted to know only one thing.

"Tooth – Toothless," he started nervously, clearing his throat. "Er, did you...did you lay those eggs, buddy?"

In response, Toothless only looked at him with amusement before nodding to his question. And Hiccup fainted. He actually_ fainted_. The hero who'd brought down a dragon the size of hills fainted because he found out that his draconic best friend had been a dragoness all along.

That little misunderstanding was never let down. Toothless forgave Hiccup easily for it, but his friends? Oh, they talked about it for years, and then passed it on to their kids.

Needless to say, Hiccup made _very_ detailed studies of the Night Fury race after that to make sure there were detectable differences between females and males.

* * *

_I know that in the books, Toothless was said to be a he, but he wasn't a Night Fury in that book, and so I can't see how Hiccup could've correctly guessed he was really a male. So here I am, writing a "what if" drabble about a female Toothless._


	15. Prompt: Geek

_Sequel drabble to the last one, since you guys asked for it. I just think it's kinda reasonable for Fishlegs who is a complete geek to go crazy about the Night Fury eggs. So, yeah...read the rest to find out._

_To answer "just me", who is an anonymous reviewer and can't be PM, yes, it is Night Wind's idea. He wasn't that comfortable around humans to do the, uh, you know. How babies come to be and stuff? Yeah. This one is when the eggs have been moved back to the Haddock household after a lot of convincing from Toothless._

_Disclaimer: Bluebell is Astrid's Deadly Nadder, and I borrowed the name (with permission) from a great author called Enchantable. _

* * *

**Prompt: Geek**

"Oh, _please_, _Hiccup_, just for a bit!"

"Fishlegs, it's Toothless and Night Wind's eggs, okay? That's their _babies_! You can't go borrowing other people's babies to study them!"

Fishlegs bit his lower lips, his fingers intertwining with each other and then letting go, his eyes holding a disturbing thirst when he eyed the cluster of six glossy-black, perfectly smooth eggs. The dragoness lying with her tail wrapped protectively around them snarled softly, her mate standing next to her, alarm but also a sort of amusement lighting his sea-green eyes.

Hiccup was standing between the Night Furies and Fishlegs, a look of pure exasperation on his face. He knew his friend is a geek, yes, and he loves dragons and was curious, too, like the huge boy. But let Hel be damned into exile between the stars first before Hiccup lets Fishlegs touch _his_ dragon's eggs.

Toothless apparently had the same idea. She likes her rider's friends, don't get her wrong, but sometimes they demanded…weird stuff, and sometimes just downright maddening stuff. She was often willing to share, but this was not one of those things she can. For the ten thousandth time since their meeting, Toothless was grateful Hiccup understands her needs.

"But it's Night Fury eggs!" Fishlegs wailed, throwing up his hands. "Do you have any idea how rare they are? We've never seen one since…since _never_!"

Hiccup rolled his eyes for the tenth time that night. He massaged a side of his head with his right hand, gritting his teeth. Where was his fiancé when he needs her? Astrid could solve this with a look. But _no_, she _has_ to go riding with Bluebell and hasn't come back yet.

The seventeen-year-old opened his eyes again, the leaf-green marbles reflecting the fire in his living room's fireplace, making it looked like his eyes were burning up. Well, yes, in a sense, it was. Hiccup's patience was running thin. He has a bad case of migraine, tomorrow was his wedding, and his best friend was chewing him out with his dragons' eggs.

"Fishlegs," Hiccup said, his voice low with a sudden quality of threat in it that creepily matched Toothless' low-sequent growls when she was angry, "I am in a crisis here. These eggs are not for observation until the dragonets hatched, and then I will give you the egg pieces for 'observation', deal? Now if you please, I have a wedding tomorrow and I'll have to figure out some ways to keep from embarrassing myself and avoid Astrid's axe."

"But it's a Night…!" Fishlegs protested, the Glorious Geek inside fueling his determination, but he was starting to be freaked out by that Toothless-like look and the tone of Hiccup's voice had also left him somewhat shaken.

"Deal?" Hiccup repeated, copying his father now, all those years ago when he was about to be signed up for dragon training, although he wasn't yelling. His voice had sunken softer but the threat in it had intensified somehow.

"It's really…" Fishlegs started again, but then he saw Hiccup's narrowed eyes flashed dangerously, and suddenly he understood that this scrawny guy about half his size wasn't going to be messed with tonight. Fishlegs made the wise decision. He nodded reluctantly. "Okay, fine, but call me when they hatched, okay?"

"Yeah, promise," the chieftain's son answered, breathing out a half-sigh of relief. _Finally._ "So, uh, can I catch some sleep now?" Hiccup quickly came back to being Hiccup, but Fishlegs was already scurrying away. The look the boy had given him really _was_ creepy. It made Fishlegs wondered if he spent time around Horrorcow, his Gronkle enough, he would grow to look like her, too. He hoped not.

The door slammed shut, and Hiccup breathed out a sigh of relief, running his right hand through his hair. "Whew!" he said, yawning. "I'll go to sleep now if you don't mind. Are you guys okay sleeping here?" Hiccup turned to look at Night Wind and Toothless, who both nodded. It really was late, and he had a very cocky Viking woman to please tomorrow. So Hiccup waved good-bye to the pair and limped up to his bedroom.

Once they were alone together, Night Wind curled himself around his mate. _"He really took after you, huh?"_ he remarked playfully, spitting a small spark into the hearth to get it burning bright again. Their eggs will need the heat.

"_He does, doesn't he?"_ Toothless replied sleepily, her eyes already drifting close. _"Makes me proud. Good night, Night Wind."_ And she closed her eyes completely.

Chuckling at his mate and her rather interesting human, Night Wind leaned over to lick Toothless' ear gently before settling down around her, his large form easily covering hers and his wing the eggs. _"Good night, Toothless,"_ he murmured, his head on top of his mate's.

Lying under her mate's protective form, a smile etched on the dragoness' scaly lips. She prayed that tomorrow wouldn't go wrong with Astrid. The Viking woman was the fiercest of the females in the village, second only by a few. If something _does_ go wrong, though…Toothless will make sure to ask Night Wind to step in before it goes too far. She wouldn't want her hatchling hurt.

* * *

_You know what will happen if the eggs hatched tomorrow and go to the wedding? I smell trouble and a plot bunny, but we'll see._

_Reviews are loved._

_~the Apprentice_


	16. Prompt: Father

_This is done in Fem!Toothless' POV. I shouldn't have written that "Court". Now I can't get the idea that Toothless is a female out of my head. So, Male!Toothless fans out there, I'm sorry. Still, it would fit more if she really is a dragoness when I'm writing this._

_As for "just me", the answer your last question in the review you left for last chapter lies in the wedding event which I am planning. Please forgive me. It'll take some time to finish that one. _

* * *

**Prompt: Father**

In Toothless' opinion, Stoick the Vast, sire to her almost-adoptive hatchling was a pretty impressive and lovable man. Well, when he wasn't tossing catapults at the dragons or yelling at the top of his lungs for something. It was enough to cause problems to human eardrums. To dragon eardrums, which were seven times as keen and sensitive, it was a roaring nightmare.

He knew how to lead his people and how to deal with the threats, seeing as Berk was still able to pull together after all those dragon raids they've rained on the humans. He knew how to motivate his people with the speeches Toothless and Hiccup had heard. He knew how to care and where to strike when it calls for a war.

All in all, Stoick was remarkable.

But for the life of Toothless, she cannot like him as wholly as Astrid or one of the other kids for Hiccup's sake. She has a reason for it, though, and it was pretty fair.

When they were in the forest, in the months that they got to know each other, there were more than once when Hiccup would say he doesn't feel like riding today and would sit, curled into a ball with Toothless looking at him. He would start talking then, about his childhood, his dam and then his sire. His sire. Hiccup's voice would always hitched in pain as he talked about how Stoick always gave him his "disappointed" speeches or how he would never listen.

There was no hatred in the hatchling's voice as he talks, but Toothless with her keen ears can detect the hurt in his tone. He wanted his sire's respect and acceptance; he really does. And according to him, Stoick had never listened or even decided to think about it for once.

"It's like he thought I'm borne to be a disappointment sometimes," the hatchling had said once, bitterly. Those were the only time he talked about his sire with sourness.

And then there were times when Hiccup would actually cry. It made Toothless' stomach clenched every time he cried around her, and all she could do was try to soothe away the pain that she knew would never end un-less Hiccup's sire decides to listen. But then again, she'd never truly met the man she'd always heard her hatchling talked about aside from the dreamy days when Hiccup would talk about his dam – a good one, Toothless had imagined.

She understood that Stoick's acceptance and trust was important to Hiccup. And base on the information she'd been given, Toothless deducted that Stoick had never given his son either of those.

Then came the arena.

Although she didn't know much about humans' nutty cultures, Toothless seriously started questioning their sanity as soon as she burst into the clearing, wild with panic and protective fear that she would lose her hatchling to another dragon. What in Thor's lovely beard and hammer were they thinking, putting him in a cage with an unstable Nightmare?

Next, the capture ensued. Despite popular belief, Toothless did _not_ attack Stoick because she saw him as a threat. It was because she was angry at him, angry at him for risking her hatchling's life, for risking _his_ hatchling's life. Just because he was going to get some entertainment out of it. She was more than livid about that detail.

And then Hiccup had begged, and she'd caved in. In that rage-filled tornado of hatred, his words reached her, and Toothless suddenly remembered that this man was important to her hatchling. She didn't want to ruin his trust or his smile. So she let go, and she was captured.

Toothless was not kicked into a cage immediately. She fought to get to her hatchling's side, roaring and kicking. Amidst those actions, she'd still heard the hatchling's sire as he shouted, had heard Hiccup's pleads and attempts at getting through to his father faintly above all the noises the humans made.

"Please, Dad, just once in your life, _listen to me_!" Hiccup had shouted desperately. "You _can't_ win this! I promise you can't!"

The rest was lost as Toothless had to return to her own struggle. She was able to catch the bottom line, though, the one that made her want to tear this Stoick man apart. Again.

"_You're not my son!_"

And she truly questioned if this man was sane. Again. Why would he say that? Doesn't he know just how much it hurts Hiccup? He probably doesn't, she thought with loathing later on, as he spat at her and demanded her to lead her back to the Dragon's Nest so he could kill some of her people and have all his people be slain by that godforsaken Queen.

Next came the battle. The man had saved her from drowning. More importantly, he'd saved her hatchling, and he'd said sorry. But that wasn't nearly enough. For everything he'd done to Hiccup, Toothless could not forgive him so easily. She knew the remnants of hurt was still there.

And so she'd tried hard, not just to destroy the Queen and set her people free, but to demonstrate to Hiccup's sire what his son was truly capable of, what he was capable of on _her_. They've won. Her hatchling's won his sire's trust.

But then the hatchling ended up nearly losing his life. Again, Stoick had left a deep, burning mark in Toothless' mind what his stubbornness had nearly cost them both. But he'd said sorry, and he'd meant it, and she'd relented.

That leads to now. Now, Stoick had repaid most of his wrongs with rights that made Hiccup's face shine with cheer. Toothless had loved that. So he was forgiven a little more as time passed.

Still, no matter how many years passed, Toothless could never forgive Stoick completely.

She simply couldn't forgive a man who'd destroyed her hatchling's happiness so many times.

* * *

_Reviews are loved. Thank you._


	17. Prompt: Wedding

_A little rushed on this one, but I did it to the best of my ability. I think I'm getting addicted to Fem!Toothless through these last couple drabbles. Sorry, guys!_

_Disclaimer: HTTYD isn't mine_

* * *

**Prompt: Wedding**

Normally, dragon eggs of any species take about four to six weeks to hatch after they were laid. Monstrous Nightmares took about a bit over six weeks while Nadder eggs, the swiftest of the Common Dragons, took only three. The others ranged about anywhere in that number, except for the Terrible Terror eggs that hatched a week and a half after laying.

As for the Night Furies, however, it was a different story. The eggs developed quickly, and when it was finally laid, the hatchling inside was almost ready to hatch. It might even take less than a week for the egg to start cracking. If they were lucky, it might take only three days.

Unfortunately, Toothless did not know this. She has no experience as a mother before Night Wind, and she has spent her years with her parents focused more on hunting and having fun than sitting around with her siblings to hear her mother explain things about their birth.

That rained hell on her _other_ hatchling, her rider, Hiccup.

It had been an exhausting night, and Toothless had fell into a deep sleep, and so had Night Wind, her mate. She had only woke slightly when Hiccup made the strangest band consisted of his metal leg, curses done in the name of Loki and a lot more noises as he bumped his way down the stairs. Toothless considered getting up and helping her rider to the wedding without having his face planted in the mud too many times, but her duty was with the eggs.

Night Wind had, thankfully, gotten up and went to help Hiccup without needing his mate asking. He only threw her an assuring look before he let himself be an organic crutch for the nervous boy to walk around with. Reassured, the half-asleep Toothless returned to her slumber, curling herself tighter around the precious cluster.

She didn't check the eggs.

A few hours later but what seemed like minutes to Toothless, there was an urgent nudge on the left side of her face. She snorted disdainfully and opened her eyes to look into sea-green ones. Night Wind's. His eyes told her that there was something incredibly wrong, and for a moment, Toothless' stomach squeezed unpleasantly. _Hiccup_.

"The eggs," Night Wind said in a hurry, his voice muffled by something. "Are they still there?"

With a blink, Toothless lifted her wind and checked. Yes, part of the eggs was still there. Scattered pieces of glossy black eggshells were all over the place, along with a little slimy yellow fluid. But that was all. No sign of their inhabitants.

"They _hatched_?" Toothless cried, getting onto her feet quickly and turning to look at her mate. "Where are they?"

"Apparently running all over the place in the city," Night Wind replied as he dropped a silver-eyed big ball of black scales and not-yet-developed wings in front of her, who curled up on the floor, whimpered indignantly and started to chew on her tailfin. "Got one of them. She's a female. Five to go."

Toothless stared at the little thing in wonder before nudging her carefully and licked her once. Her daughter recognized the mother's scent and nosed her back, although she didn't let go of her own tail. "Don't do that," Toothless said gently, and the Night Fury (Junior) let go of her chew toy with reluctance.

"Come on, we'll have to search for them!" Night Wind urged. Glancing at her mate once and then back on her daughter, Toothless made a decision. She blasted a small circle around the hatchling, about three feet wide in diameter and told her firmly to stay. It was a trick her mother had used on her and her siblings when they were younger. The fire circle means stay. Toothless knew that. She just wasn't sure this one was going to obey the rule or not.

The little copy of herself only blinked at Toothless innocently, making the dragoness narrowed her eyes in suspicion. She'd pulled that same look on Hiccup when he made her promise not to burn his few bullies' pants and had done it anyway. She wasn't sure if that was genetic or not…

"NIGHT FURIES!" a voice bellowed from outside.

"TINY WITTLE NIGHT FWUWY!" another voice, this one younger and shrill with excitement, shrieked.

Night Wind closed his eyes and blew a sigh through his nostrils. "I didn't think chasing down my children is a line in my occupation deal as a father."

"Oh, come on, Night Wind. The hatchlings will make a big racket. Easier for us to spot them." With that, Toothless hurriedly bolted out of the large doorway, hoping that her children wouldn't interfere with Hiccup's wedding with a very demanding woman. With a battleaxe.

Well, Astrid might not actually _throw_ the axe as her husband, but she might be very pissed, and Toothless knew from experience what a pissed Astrid plus a Nadder plus a battleaxe could do. She questioned herself why the eggs had to hatch _today_, of all the days.

Apparently Loki wasn't happy that Hiccup had cursed his name, or the gods did not like the Haddocks and their dragons altogether.

0o0o0o0o0

The good news: Toothless and Night Wind managed to retrieve three of their loosed five in the first half hour and returned them to Hiccup's house to find that the silver-eyed hatchling was, frankly, still there ("Why did she listen to you but not me?" Night Wind had whined loudly). They put the others in with her and gave them some fish before setting out again, using their jaws and tails to close the door behind them.

The bad news: The last two were at the wedding.

And making a mess.

And caused a lot of giggling and smothered laughter to go around while the other Vikings, bride and groom included, watched as the two little ones clung to Stoick's vast beard as the large man danced around and shouting that _for the love of Thor, get these little imps off my beard, damn you!_

Toothless had a pang of guilt as she approached the mess. So she had ruined her rider's happy day after all.

However, that was not the case. They had moved to the partying part before the little "imps" showed up to make a little hullabaloo out of the event – and the now red-faced chieftain. The others in the village had greeted the dragon couple with kindness, and Hiccup had gone to stand next to Hiccup, leading a stunningly beautiful Astrid in a white long dress with him.

"Well, Toothless," the young man said as he cringed, watching his father crashed into a table, still bellowing like a dragon gone mad and wasting a reasonable amount of perfectly good ale as it spilled onto the ground, "I think you should sharpen up a bit on your mothering skills, buddy."

Toothless moaned mournfully and went forward to resolve the problem. With the help of the still-trying-to-reign-in-their-laughs young couple, they managed to get the problem off of Stoick after a good fifteen minute of coaxing the chief and difficult moments when their ribs seemed to be cracking with laughter.

But then, when they finally got the two off, one a toxic green-eyed dragonet and the other one, a ruby-eyed, the two turned their attention to Astrid's mother's shiny seashell hair decoration and they decided they wanted that. Toothless and Night Wind missed while trying to catch them.

Needless to say, lots of screaming and roaring ensued.

When everything was quite settled, Snotlout's and Fireworm's voices suddenly rang out somewhere across town, both in Norse and in Dragonese.

"ATTACK OF TOOTHLESS JUNIORS!"

Hiccup and Astrid glanced at Toothless and Night Wind before the young man sighed and shed the magnificent fur cape he was wearing as he hobbled onto Toothless. "C'mon, buddy, let's get your kids back before they destroy half of Berk," he said.

There was a sudden explosion somewhere in the distance, followed by a torched house. Inexperienced Night Fury fire, no doubt.

Night Wind and Toothless groaned. This is going to be a _long_ day.

* * *

_Humans are lucky. Our babies can't get up and cause mayhem right after they are born. Dragons - not so much..._


	18. Prompt: Mythology

_Disclaimer: HTTYD is not mine_

**Prompt: Mythology**

The six original Dragon Riders of Berk, if you look hard enough, can be compared to one of the legendary creatures of mythology. And to some people's surprise, it almost fits completely.

Astrid – _Valkyrie_. She was strong. She was born to fight like any Viking, to surpass them, and to win. She has that angelic touch to her but strong enough to sever any man who tried to do something to her that she doesn't like. Once she enters a fight, she knows for a certain fact that she will win or she will die trying her best. She is the one who carries death to her foes, though, not carrying her dead foes to Valhalla.

Snotlout – _Griffon_. Fierce, tried anything to impress his idol and looked down a bit upon others. He was strong on both ground and in sky, and his strikes were numerous, quick and efficient. He was also fiercely loyal once he gets to know someone well enough and he likes them.

Fishlegs – _Unicorn_. Shy, quick to flee, a dork among a community, but knowledgeable in his own way and smart. He was not that much clumsy. It wasn't that he wanted to be clumsy, either. He just wasn't all that confident in what he does. However, if he was determined enough, count on him to do it till the bitter end.

Ruffnut and Tuffnut – _Cerbeus_. They always came in a pair, always fought over anything even when after everything was said and done, the good they earned was for both of them, one way or another. The twins had their own separate brains, but their third head – their _united_ head – was always a rather scary concept. They can fight together, they can most certainly use teamwork to beat the crap out of anybody challenging them, but it was only during the utmost urgency did they use their third head.

And that left us the last of the six, the _very first _of the Viking roots to ever fully experience "sky" on dragon back.

Hiccup – _Phoenix_. In China mythology, the phoenix could always be seen next to a dragon. One is not whole without the other. In Egyptian mythology, the phoenix is the golden and red bird that dies one day and a new one will be reborn from its ashes another day. And Hiccup did, coming from the klutz of a chieftain's son to the greatest one-legged hero the Hairy Hooligans will never forget. He went through the fire of the Dragon Queen at the age of thirteen and survived with the help of his Night Fury, Toothless. He came back not whole but not crippled, either. He just _was_. Hiccup had started from being a dull pile of ashes to a rising phoenix with golden red feathers, partnered with a dragon and soared higher into the heaven than anyone before him had ever dared to.

Of all the Dragon Riders, Hiccup Horrendous Haddock the Third's one-word description…is the truest.

* * *

_My sisters went to the movie. I'm staying home. To write this for you folks. Hope you enjoy!_


	19. Prompt: Fire Lesson

Yet another one about Toothless' children. Now it's somebody else's turn to feel the troublemaking prowress of the baby Night Furies! Muahahaha!

Disclaimer: Bluebell is Astrid's Nadder, name borrowed from Enchantable. HTTYD belongs to Dreamworks.

* * *

**Prompt: Fire Lesson**

"Okay, now aim at the tree, focus your fire and blow when you feel it was enough gas," Toothless instructed, flickering her tail at a large, wetted redwood tree ten meters away from her hatchling. He was the one with the ruby eyes that had, along with his brother, caused a mayhem at the wedding – but that was more than three weeks ago. Now Toothless and Night Wind concentrated on teaching their children the basic skills of Night Fury.

"How do I know when it's gonna be enough?" asked Crimson (the name was suggested by Astrid and accepted by both Night Fury parents), looking at his dame. He was a curious little thing, exactly like Toothless except cuter, rounder and a bit more awkward, bumbling like a newborn baby. Toothless had seen her rider and his wife melt to butter around Crimson.

"You will have to time it," Toothless replied. "For now, just breath a number of shots at different times. One at three seconds, one at four, six, fifteen and such and see how much destruction it might cause at each one. It's going to take a bit of time before you get all the timings down into instinct, but it will come in time. And remember, our fire explodes on impact. One stray shot will cause a lot of problems, especially around the humans. You know how their houses are."

Crimson nodded eagerly. "Can I try now?" he asked, shifting on his feet. "Please?"

To be completely honest, Toothless was not sure. This was her eldest hatchling and he'd proved to be the most powerful when it comes to dragon fire. His blasts were unnaturally strong for a hatchling his age, and she'd worried. If the fire was not correctly refined, he might be a little machine of exploding death later in life. Especially around Berk. With all the little bumbling dragonets already around, they could use one less.

But Toothless merely swallowed in her worry and nodded, stepping back. "Please, go ahead," she said.

Crimson stepped forward and narrowed his eyes at the tree trunk. He took a deep breath, let it go before positioning himself squarely in front of the redwood and started gathering gas.

Toothless, along with Hiccup, Astrid and the rest of the first dragon riders of Berk plus their dragons watched in fascination as Crimson prepared. There was that unmistakable sound of gathering fire gas in a dragon's mouth emitting from Crimson. Five seconds, ten…

"Release!" Toothless ordered, fearing that if he held too long, he might produce too much fire.

Crimson released at her command, and a bright ball of silver blue fire shot out, nearly as large as Toothless' own, flew toward the target and slammed against the tree trunk. There was a mighty BOOM, sound of fire crackling, and then the redwood went down. It fell backward.

"AIYEEE!" somebody yelled very manly from behind the woods and there were sounds of other trees cracking.

Silence.

"Why does that sound like Gobber?" Hiccup said at last, struggling upright to limp toward the source of the voice. Now the same voice produced a lot of profanities. Astrid stood to follow him, her eyes sparkling in slight amusement. Bluebell tailed her, of course.

Toothless stayed, her jaw dropped. No way. How could a hatchling, three weeks old, fell a tree like that? Okay, maybe she knew the redwood was almost half rotten through, but that doesn't change the fact that…

"Um, Mom?" Crimson called timidly, breaking his dame's line of thoughts. Toothless glanced down at her hatchling. He was shuffling nervously, not sure what he'd done wrong. "I…I'm not in trouble, am I?"

"No, no," Toothless said hastily, winding her tail around the little one and nuzzled him. "Of course not. But…"

She looked at the redwood tree again.

"No hunting lesson for you in the next six weeks, Crimson. You'll be with _me_, practicing how to control that fire."

Crimson groaned. Maybe he shouldn't have showed off after all.


	20. Prompt: Blame

_I must be the lamest author ever. I beg your forgiveness for the late update! Too stuck with my OC story for this, but now I finally got the inspiration again! Although it's not a Little!Fury one, it's something. I'll get that other drabble out as soon as possible, I swear!_

_Disclaimer: Sue me and the best I can give you is a confession that I have nothing on me except for a crap load of doodles, an outdated computer, a pencil and an eraser._

* * *

**Prompt: Blame**

In the largest house on the island of Berk one rainy, gloomy spring night, two figures, one large and the other larger, sat in front of the burning fireplace. The large one belonged to a stout but muscular man with a blonde mustache that was definitely more attention-grabbing than his hair, a right peg leg, a fake left hand and a look of uncertainty, sadness but understanding on his face. His name, spoken by many men and women in his village with respect, was Gobber the Belch. "The blacksmith" was his other title, but Gobber favored the first slightly more than the latter.

The other belonged to Stoick the Vast, chieftain of the Hairy Hooligans. His red hair was braided into one thick braid behind his head, and his massive figure was wrapped in dragon scale chain-mail. Blue eyes were blurry and his face was flushed. In addition to the cup of ale in his hand, it was easy to tell that the man was drunk.

"Ya okay there, Stoick?" Gobber asked carefully, shifting ever so slightly in his stool.

"Of course I'm not okay!" Stoick snapped, downing the ale. "My _wife_ had just died, Gobber. How do you expect me to be 'okay'?" Here he started to hiccup with grievous, strangled sobs. "Gone, Gobber. Gone. She's…Valhallamara…gone." And he knew his beautiful wife was indeed gone. He'd seen her charred, broken body, thrown from the sky after being burnt by a Monstrous Nightmare that he'd later slain, had seen her wide open, regretful eyes. He had seen it all. And now it will haunt him until the day his life ends.

Gobber was quiet for a few minutes before looking at his cup of ale. "She's in Valhalla right now," the man spoke, "and she probably doesn't want her husband to be a Viking fur ball of misery over her death. Can you imagine what she would say when she sees…_this_?" He gestured toward the chieftain's red face and equally red puffy eyes.

That drew a soft, half-hearted chuckle out of the large(r) man. Oh, yes, he knew exactly what that somewhat crazy, redhead woman would do. She would knock him over the head a few time with the pommel of her sword, ask him if he's okay now or not, and if he still isn't, she is going to drag him to bed and tell him a load of things that couldn't help but snap him out of his depression. Stoick could not forget those vibrant, wry leafy green eyes that had made his days so much easier to bear before.

And the fact smacked him in the face again: they are gone. _She _is gone.

"It was all his fault, Gobber," Stoick said bitterly, the alcohol making his tongue loose. "If he had just stayed inside, she wouldn't have to protect that useless brat and maybe she would've lived to add some life into this conversation right here." His eyes simmered with fury and the need to blame his wife's death onto something aside from himself – that he'd not stayed by her side in the first place.

"Now, Stoick –" Gobber said warningly, but it was no use.

"If my _failure_ of a son hadn't brought his ass out on the battlefield and stayed home where he belongs and _where he was ordered to_, his mother and my wife wouldn't have had to go through this," Stoick said loudly, and at that moment, he meant every word he said.

The man chucked down some more ale before adding drunkenly, "I wish _he_ would've been dead instead of Valhallamara, Gobber. I really do."

Right up the stairs, face stained with tears, attempting to make his way down to say that he was so sorry, was Hiccup. The failure of a son. The reason for Valhallamara's death. His mother's…indirect murderer.

Every single tear Hiccup had barely managed to hold back broke free as pain stabbed through his chest. Clutching the bandaged left arm that the Nightmare had burnt a mere week ago, six-year-old Hiccup Haddock Horrendous III turned on his heels and stumbled back to his room, his body shaking with sobs and hurt.

That was the last time Hiccup ever cried. That was the reason why he could not look at his father without a twinge of pain ever again.

_That_ cut...would never heal.

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_I don't know if this is Stoick-bashing or Hiccup-bashing. Inspired by a few mentioned ideas of Stoick's reaction to Valhallamara's death._

_School ends in two days! And review!_

_~the Apprentice_


	21. Prompt: Reflection

_I am back. Sorry for the long wait. But this isn't going to be a little!Fury one either. I'm out of idea for that little department, and I am concentrating on We are the Differences too much to do anything else, so yeah, bear with me, guys. But here's a piece I've managed to write for you guys! Hope you folks like it!_

Normal is Hiccup. _Italic is Toothless._

* * *

**Prompt: Reflection**

Ever since he could walk, he had been different. He thought before everything he did instead of charging head-first into it like the rest of his age group. He contemplated nature instead of destroying it. He built things up instead of clobbering them down. He tried new things instead of going in the same old cycle his people were comfortable with.

_Ever since he could fly, he had been different. He watched the pointless fights his brethrens waged on each other in silence. He studied nature with an open eye instead of seeing it as a mean to get something. He _watched_ what he destroys and only did so when it is absolutely necessary. He roamed where the other dragons do not dare. He saw the humans as curious creatures, not little buggers standing between him and his food._

He got pushed down and bullied by being the only one of his kind, the one that stood out. He got mauled, got called names, got beaten _just because_. He was the weakest of any Viking to ever walk on his homeland. He was thrown into puddles of mud, got his hair yanked, got a fist in his face, and he did nothing. It wasn't like he _could_ do anything. After some time, the abuse sank down to merely cruel taunts. And he endured it all.

_He was feared by others because of what he is and by being the only one of his kind. If not, he was treated with despise and jealousy for what he could do and what they could not. He always had to find a warm place in the Queen's mountain with difficulties, since a family of Nightmares would often spread around and take up every space possible when they could have stayed together just to spite him. He always got his food sought after by Terrible Terrors who have just eaten. After six weeks, his patience ran thin and he killed a Monstrous Nightmare, an entire pack of Terrors and severely injured a Nadder that dared challenge him. They left him alone after that._

Because he was weaker than the rest, he was denied and despised.

_Because he was stronger than the rest, he was feared and despised._

He strived to please his father, to set things right. He wanted to mix in. He had hope that if he keeps trying to be what he could never be, he would succeed and his life would get infinitely better. He hated the pitiful or disgusted glances going his way. He hated being viewed as a weakling.

_He strived to rebel the Queen, to free himself from her grasp. He wanted to be different. He had hoped that if he keeps trying to do something that he could never do alone, he would succeed. His life would get better. His people would no longer fear him so, but respect him. He hated the frightened squeaks he received from the dragonets or the threatening snarls the adults gave him. He hated being viewed as a monster._

And then he shot the Night Fury down. He had, for once in his life, done something right! But when he raised that knife at the felled dragon, saw the too-expressive eyes, and saw his own soul reflecting in them, he came to a realization: what he did was right to his _people_. It was not right to him. And he cut it loose. It was the first time he listened to his heart, not his head.

_And then he was shot down by a human. The thing had the stupidity to cut him loose, so he had pounced on it. He had been ready to kill it, but looking into leaf-green eyes, he saw himself in there. The human child was his warped image, he realized. He knew any other dragon would have killed this human, but he did not. He never feared differences. So he had let the child go. It was the first time he listened to his head, not his heart._

He realized he had wounded the dragon, had taken away the thing that was important to the beast, and so he had come back, had given it back what he had taken from it. He had clumsily set everything to be as right as it could be. He had placed his safety in the dragon as he allowed himself to be taken into the sky.

_He had realized, with fury and fear, that he would never feel the sky again, but then that human came back. It tried to do everything it could to make things right again. He understood it entrusted its life and its future into him when he allowed it to ride with him into the vast blue above them. He knew that was how it said sorry, and his pride could only last so long. He accepted the apology._

Friendship came to them, steady and strong with every moment they spent with each other. Awkward silences and stuttering soon came to warm greetings and laughter. He laughed and talked to the dragon like he had never talked to any of his own kind before. He looked at the toxic green eyes and he knew that he was understood. The solitude, the loneliness, the need to be accepted – this one understood it all. And for that, he was grateful. He started calling the dragon a "he", because he was obviously more civilized than most humans he knew.

_Their friendship grew. Distrustful looks and angry snarls faded and rearranged themselves into amused stares and pleasant growls as days passed. He listened and protected this human as he never had before to any of his kins. Whenever he looked into the leaf-green marbles, he saw what he had always sought: acceptance and friendship. So he gave in. He let the human have his fun, to let him see his playful side, to coddle him. He started calling his friend a "he" instead of an "it" because the child was so much more educated than many a dragon._

He saw his best friend stuck on a tree once, and saw how frustrated and desperate the dragon was lashing about as he tried to escape, but only ended up more stuck. He had calmed him down, climbed up the tree himself and did the untangling slowly, painstakingly, carefully cutting every vine down until the dragon is once again on earth, unbound and happy. Little did he know, he had taught the mighty Child of Thunder and Death his first real lesson of "temperance" no matter how time-wasting it could be.

_They have been faced by a pissed-off Gronkle before in the wild. While he felt his friend shook on his back, he himself did nothing but stand his ground. He replied the thing's fire blast to blast, and when it ran out of shots and tried to tackle him, he fought back albeit taking care not to hit his human. Soon, after standing his ground for a bit longer, the thing turned and fled. The Queen will eat it for not bringing back any food soon, so he was not worry. He did not know, but he had taught his young friend the effectiveness of "violence" no matter how ugly it sounded or was._

And then the consequences of their friendship were paid with pain and battle. They, he and his friend, had battled the Queen, had obliterated Her, had won their foes' as were his friends' respect. One leg was a small payment for everything he had now. In the end, he learned that he couldn't get anywhere if he kept trying to do what others thought were "right" instead of what _he_ thought was right.

_And then the consequences of their friendship were paid with loss and blood. They had, together, destroyed the blasted Queen and had won any and everything they have always hoped for, fair and square. A tailfin was a small price to pay for that, but his friend's lost leg still left him to feel stabs of guilt. The bright smile that lit up the leaf-green eyes, though, was his ultimate reward. In the end, he learned that no matter how strong he was, two compared to one would always accomplish things one cannot do alone._

Rider and dragon, they were each other's shadow.

_Dragon and rider, they were each other's twisted reflection_.

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_So, er, review...?_


	22. Prompt: Second Thought

_Between "We are the Differences" (which is nearly finish, thank the gods; sequel's being planned) and the series of drabbles that follows it, I manage to squeeze this out for you guys. Enjoy._

_Disclaimer: Toothless' gender, which, from now on in this series of drabbles, shall be female, is not known for certain. However, the rest of all mentioned individuals in this drabble belongs to Dreamswork._

* * *

**Prompt: Second Thought**

Every so often, Gobber the Belch would hear Stoick, his friend and chieftain, complain about the Night Fury his son was so attached to. True, Toothless _had_ saved Hiccup's life and kept the boy out of otherwise messy businesses, but the dragoness was anything but a pet. A loyal beast, yes, a dedicated friend, yes, a downright goofball at times, Thor yes, but…not quite your average pet. She was no fool.

This would usually be treated as an advantage, but Stoick thought otherwise. If Toothless had been a simple pet, the chieftain could have convinced her to take refugee _outside_ of his house with a few coaxing words and fish, or he could have blamed the smelly throw-up food puddles around the house on her animal brain. But _no_. When Toothless threw up in Stoick's house, she was trying to spite him. Then she would proceed to give him that grin of hers, all innocent and cute.

Stoick could not fathom _why _the other kids, Hiccup included, thought it adorable. He thought it a challenge. And he would gladly accept it, too, had Hiccup not very nearly gone hysteric the last time Stoick lost his temper and threw a barrel at Toothless. Of course, it did not even faze her, but who cares? She would have been guilty, too, had she fought back. But of course not. What that infuriating reptile did was curl up, (pretend to!) quake miserably and gave everyone the Eyes, and so everyone go "aw" and glared at Stoick. Hiccup would not talk to Stoick normally for a week afterward.

Later on, the chieftain actually thought about strangling the Night Fury with his bare hands as she flashed him another smirk.

So yes, he hates her, Stoick concluded.

_Maybe you are exaggerating,_ Gobber would answer. _She ain't all that bad. If anything, she's the one keepin' the young lad outta trouble._

Personally, the blacksmith liked the Night Fury. She _was_ adorable when she wanted to be, and she was incredibly helpful and polite, too, if you treat her the same way. Bonus if there are fish involved. The Night Fury is bound to make trouble here and there from time to time, but overall, she was a nice companion to Hiccup, his friends and occasionally a few adults. A mother-hen sometimes, but…maybe Hiccup needed it. And she made the lad smile even on the darkest of days.

All in all, Gobber believed Stoick was exaggerating it _way_ too much. Even after the wedding-gone-slightly-wrong, he still stuck with his belief. Toothless' mate and children are fine, too. He would never change his opinion about them.

Until that fateful day when that redwood tree went crashing down on him.

And all he could say was, "_Ayee!_"

Gobber refused to acknowledge that it was the sound of his heart breaking when Stoick teased him about it later.

Still, after everything was said and done (and broken bones were mended), Gobber did keep a closer, warier eye on the rest of the Night Fury family.

Just to be on the safe side, of course.

* * *

_Mm, so it _was _Gobber the tree fell on top of. I wonder...Would that be more interesting if it had been Stoick instead?_

_Review._


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